I'm Bad at Love
by teamfreewifi
Summary: Gavin Reed had never had his heart broken before, but if it felt like this, he didn't want it. You had swooped in with your cold hands and your warm heart. You had wormed your way into Gavin's, and he had let you in. Or, the one where Gavin finds the one that could finally fix him / A Detroit: Become Human one-shot


"But you can't blame me for tryin'  
You know I'd be lyin' sayin'  
You were the one  
That could finally fix me  
Lookin' at my history"  
\- Halsey

* * *

"What happened here?"

"Looks like someone's been snoopin' around."

"Shit… Get the alarm, now!"

Gavin Reed weaved in and out of consciousness when he started hearing voices in the Archive Room. He felt cold fingers move to his neck, pressing against his pulse. An involuntary shiver went up his spine.

His head hurt. His face hurt. His whole fucking body hurt. _That android prick is so fucking dead—_

"Detective? Are you alive down there?" The voice was teasing; amusement laced their words. He recognized the voice, but he couldn't be too sure.

A hand braced the back of his neck while another gripped his arm. Gavin audibly groaned when he was turned onto his back. The overhead lights were bright even with his eyes closed; he refused to open them. He kind of favored laying face-down on the cold floor a little better.

"What the fuck happened to _him_?" Special Agent Perkins. God, Gavin wished he and his stupid nose would just _fuck off_.

"With all due respect, sir, he's not the one with a bloody nose."

Gavin could have laughed at that. Only one other person in the precinct had the balls to talk back to someone like Perkins.

You tapped his face roughly, trying to get him up. "Reed, stop being a bitch. I know you're awake."

He squinted up at the ceiling, the fluorescent lights blinding him momentarily. Gavin sat up, and then immediately regretted it. "Oh, fuck…" He leaned into the console beside him, holding his head as the room started to spin. The vertigo made his stomach do flips.

"Take your time."

He let himself look then. He let himself see you, the person who was being uncharacteristically nice to him. Gavin's eyes met yours, and they were full of… _concern_. Trying to play off his hard fall, he said, "I can take care of myself, L/N." He reached up to the console in an attempt to stand; you rolled your eyes before ducking under his arm and helping him to his feet.

"It sure looks like it, Reed," you shot back at him, tightening your grip around his waist.

More footsteps came into the Archive Room and the onslaught of voices made his head hurt even worse. Gavin could rather hear more than see Captain Fowler's rage above all else, and he couldn't get the words out fast enough to defend himself.

"Detective Reed, you start talking and you better start talking _fast_."

"I'm gonna need a second, Capt—"

"He got knocked out, sir," you said, interrupting him. "I'll get him checked out, then get a statement." You were pressed close to him as you both walked back towards the bullpen. As much as he hated needing to be helped, Gavin could admit that he wouldn't have made it to his desk without it.

His head was still spinning ashe sat. You left after a quick "Give me a sec" and returned with a cup of water and a bottle of pain killers. Gavin downed two tablets and the water gratefully.

In the back of his mind, he wondered why you were being so nice. It was no secret that everyone at the DPD hated his guts, and it wasn't like Gavin made any attempts to be _friendly_ with people of his own volition. He had that rough personality and an exceptionally punchable mug. The scar on his face was testament to that.

You took a seat at the edge of his desk, looking at him with scrutiny. "That RK800 _really_ did a number on you," you said, a smirk growing on your face.

"I could've taken it," Gavin muttered, avoiding your gaze. His jaw hurt when he talked, and he wondered briefly if that son of a bitch dislocated it. He chanced a look at you, brows knitting together. "Wait… How do you know it was that android?"

You merely shrugged. "After everyone finished fussing about the lieutenant punching Perkins in the face, I saw Connor leave the Archives."

"You _saw_ it and you let it _leave_?" Gavin had a slew of emotions course through him. Rage, shame, annoyance — a tinge of reprieve.

"Fuck yeah, I let him leave." You looked at Gavin like he was crazy for even asking such a question. "From the look on his face, he was on a _warpath_. Seeing you now, I guess I made the right call because I sure as _hell_ wasn't getting in his way."

Gavin bit the inside of his cheek, huffing out in anger. "You have a duty to—"

"Don't get all high and mighty on me, Reed," you said to him, giving him a pointed look. Your expression changed from fierce to amused, and it stirred something within him. "I wasn't the one who got his ass handed to him by that puppy of an android."

Gavin stared daggers into you, his face going red in frustration. He hoped that his look would break you down, would save what dignity he had left, but that smug grin wouldn't leave your face. You shouldered a laugh, pulling out a holoscreen and pressing some actions into the screen. "Take a picture, detective. It'll last longer."

The dock was crawling with DPD and SWAT and FBI cronies, trying to figure out what to do after the failed raid at Jericho. A shit ton of deviant androids had managed to escape, and the freighter was slowly but surely sinking into the waters.

Word was you jumped in front of Connor when one of the SWAT guys tried putting him down. When Gavin first heard of it, he thought you'd been shot. He thought he was going to see your lifeless body bleeding red into the fallen snow. He felt a sense of despair and almost guilt at the thought of never seeing your dumb face around the precinct again.

But then they told him you were being patched up at the back of an ambulance at the end of the dock. Then, he felt entirely new emotions. Anger was one. But relief also, because of course you were too stubborn to die.

He watched as your partner, Officer Miller, exited the back of the ambulance. Gavin approached the opening, hands shoved into his leather jacket. You were hunched over, holding the oxygen mask over your face. He would normally say you looked pathetic, but you… Your eyes locked with his and he settled with, "You're a lot dumber than I thought, L/N."

"Not the first time that's been pointed out, Reed." You grimaced when you shifted your weight, sitting up straighter. His eyes focused on the bulletproof vest and tattered police jacket that lay at your feet.

_Yeah. Really dumb._

Gavin gave you a once-over, seeing the scratches from the pavement and the busted lip that you must've earned after throwing yourself at that stupid android. Never in his life would he have thought that he would be so thankful for someone else wearing a bulletproof vest. He shook his head, starting, "I can't believe you act like nothing happened when _you were just shot at_."

"I wasn't shot at." You wore a stern look on your face; brows pulled together, lips pursed. "I just so happened to get in the way of the bullet."

Gavin took in an angry breath at that, and he could feel his emotions getting the better of him. His breath shook when he exhaled. "You risked your life for a fucking android that can be _replaced_. Do you think it would have done the same for you?"

"Connor's different. He wouldn't—"

"No, _it_ would leave you to die. Because androids _only_ care about their fucking missions."

You looked Gavin in the eyes, challenging him, and all he did was hop into the ambulance. "Why are you so against the idea of androids growing a conscience? Of becoming human?"

"Why the fuck are _you_ so stubborn?" Gavin shot back, enunciating every syllable to his question. He paced back in forth in the small space of the ambulance. You only watched him from where you sat, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders.

Gavin was caught in an internal battle. On one hand, he was surprisingly relieved that you were alive and breathing; on the other hand, he wanted to kill you for being so reckless and almost _getting yourself killed_. He couldn't wrap his head around the reason why you would "save" the deviant hunter. Mostly, he couldn't see you going out of your way to save _him_ if the situation came to it.

His eyes found yours again, searching. "Why'd you do it, really?"

"I don't know." You grew quiet. Maybe you didn't have an answer. Maybe you believed you had to do it to help with the case. Maybe Gavin could believe you did it out of the kindness of your heart. "I… I really don't know."

Maybe you were just too empathetic for your own good.

It had been a month since the androids succeeded in their revolution. Detroit was a fucking shit show, but the police still had to hold the fort down. They also still needed to file paperwork.

Gavin had been doing overtime for the last few days. There always seemed to be a mountain of tasks to do before he let himself clock out. As if it even mattered all too much; no one was waiting for him at home and he liked the vibes of the precinct better anyway.

It was God knows what hour when Gavin found himself dozing off at his desk. The bullpen was nearly empty, and the loud hum of the central heating was slowly lulling him to sleep. He squinted at his terminal, trying to remember his train of thought. What was he even writing a report on?

Movement came from the corner of his eye. Peeking over his terminal, he noticed you standing at the counter in the break room. _Interesting_. You had taken off your long sleeve uniform at some point in the night, only wearing a black undershirt that accentuated your curves in the right places and easily showed off the muscles in your arms.

His heart rate picked up in panic when you turned around abruptly, and he hoped you hadn't seen him staring. Gavin expected you to head straight for your desk, but from his periphery he saw you coming towards him. All that ran through his mind was _shit, shit, shit_.

You held a coffee cup in front of Gavin's face. When he looked up at you, you smiled genuinely. A weird feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach. "Made a fresh pot," you said. "You look like you need it as much as I do."

Gavin took the coffee in kind, nodding his thanks. He watched you return to your desk, which was littered with many open case files and two evidence boxes. You stood there for a moment, eyes raking over the folders. Your bit your bottom lip, and Gavin's eyes remained transfixed. You kept running your hand through your hair out of habit; your tongue would jut out occasionally to wet your lips when you were in deep thought.

He wanted to know what it would be like to have his fingers tangled in your hair, to have your lips hard against his — and holy shit, was he… _pining_ over you?

That couldn't be. Gavin Reed did _not_ pine. Especially not over people like you. You were everything that he wasn't.

Gavin's so-called relationships went from hook ups with random people at local bars to the _fine_ men and women of the Detroit Police Department. His relationships were one-night stands, and anything that lasted more than three dates never ended well with him.

It was common knowledge that Gavin was bad at love. But maybe he can pretend that you were the one who could finally fix him. With your genuine smiles and selfless actions; with your steadfast ethics and resolute tenacity.

Gavin took a gulp from the coffee cup, searching for a metaphorical bucket of cold water. Instead he was met with a stingingly hot liquid and burned taste buds. He fell into a coughing fit, which obviously caught your attention.

You turned to him with a raised brow, and then giggled. You fucking _giggled_. And Gavin knew it was something he wanted to hear again.

The whole Detroit Police Department had been invited to a city hall gala some months after what people began calling The Battle of Detroit. Of course, everyone was obligated to go, but Gavin went out on a limb to ask you to be his date. By some miracle, you had said yes.

"God, I hate you. You're so… _insufferable_."

"Then what the hell are you doing here with me?"

Gavin was met with a silence. You wouldn't look at him, but he could see your jaw go taut as you clenched your teeth together.

Then again, some miracles don't last forever.

It was fucking cold outside, but you had stormed out to the street when Gavin said — He couldn't even _remember_ what he said that made you so angry. The wind was blowing something fierce and even in his three-piece suit Gavin was getting goosebumps.

He stepped closer, trying to get you to look at him. Snowflakes had started to fall onto the both of you, some catching on your eyelashes. Gavin raised a hand to your face, meeting your eyes. The crease in your forehead and the downturn of your lips made him feel guilty, and he wanted to kiss it all away. "If I'm as insufferable as you say, why are you _here_?"

"Because I have a habit of wanting fix things, Gavin. And you're just a broken man that never realized he was broken, taking it out on _everyone else_." The look on your face told Gavin that you wished you could suck those words right back into your mouth and _keep them there_.

His eyebrows rose up in genuine shock. Frankly, he wasn't expecting such an honest answer.

You eyed Gavin with a look of anguish on your face, stepping away from him. "I could have been something to you," you began, shaking your head. "And you — you almost let me be."

If Gavin had already been broken, he was mere granules of dust now. He could only stand there as you walked away from him, taking with you the warmth he'd grown accustomed to. You had swooped in with your cold hands and your warm heart. You had wormed your way into Gavin's, and he had let you in.

Gavin Reed had never had his heart broken before, but if it felt like _this_, he didn't want it. The two of you grew unbelievably close over the last few months, and the idea of never having that because of his own dumb mistakes hurt his soul.

He wasn't going to fuck up again and let you walk out of his life. Not someone like you. You were everything that he wasn't, and you made him better for it.

Your skin was temperature hot against his. With you straddling his lap, Gavin couldn't keep himself from running his hands over every inch of your skin. The nape of your neck, the curve of your back, the backs of your thighs. Gavin trailed kisses along your collar bone before licking a strip up your throat.

"Gavin, _fuck_…"

God did his name sound absolutely _beautiful_ coming from your lips. A grin began to tug at the corners of his mouth when he grazed his teeth across your skin, finding the spot where your shoulder met your neck. Gavin let out a low groan when you rubbed up against him, and he hummed into your mouth when you recaptured his lips.

The kiss was slow and unsure at first; cautious. But your lips were soft against his and you molded together like you were made for each other. You ran your hands up his chest, up his neck, and your fingers found themselves in his hair. A guttural sound came from his chest when you pulled at his short-cropped hair and his entire body seemed electrically charged. Your fingers left trails of fire on his skin, and Gavin pulled you flush against him. He was not afraid of getting burned if you were the one with the match.

You shifted your weight on his lap, maneuvering in what little space you both had in the back seat of his car. He felt his leather jacket start to slide off his shoulders as you pushed it back. Gavin leaned away momentarily, attempting to take off his jacket but getting himself caught. A giggle escaped your lips, a sound he oh so wanted to fall into. His breathing turned shallow when you pushed him against the back seat, effectively trapping him with his arms still in his jacket.

You placed your hands at his neck, leaning forward to kiss the scar that marked his skin, then his lips, and then you started to pepper his jawline with kisses. Gavin watched you intently, lips parting in a silent prayer. God you made him feel things he'd never felt before. There was just _something_ about you that made his head spin and his heart race.

He should apologize more often.

At some point he managed to slip out of the jacket and shove it aside. You both moved to pull your shirts off before falling back into a kiss that was all tongue and teeth and fire. He licked up your throat again, nipping and sucking at your skin. The wonderful moans and pants that were elicited from you burned into his memory as he guided you back into the seat. You hooked your legs around his waist and he immediately rolled his hips into yours. Gavin probably let out a curse, but he couldn't tell because his head was just as fogged up as the windows of the car.

"We're going to get _caught_," you mumbled into his skin, pressing kisses to his shoulder. The air inside the car was hot and stuffy, leaving a light film of sweat on both of you. It was a stark contrast to the freezing weather outside.

Gavin smirked, his fingers gliding up your exposed sides, which caused you to squirm under him. The look he gave you mirrored the lust-filled expression on your own face. "You don't seem to be minding too much," he pointed out. His smile grew wider when you rolled your eyes and pulled him down to kiss you again.

Apart from tossing your shirts out of the way, you both were infuriatingly clothed. Gavin wanted to fix that problem — immediately. He moved to unbuckle his belt, discarding his badge and holster and handcuffs haphazardly onto the floor. The back of his head was against the ceiling of his car, and when he looked down on you he stopped moving altogether. Your eyes were dilated, and your hair was a hot mess, and the ghost of a smile was present on your lips kissed red. You shifted to grind into him once more, and he hastily went to undo his zip with one hand. He leaned down again, fitting himself between your legs and forgetting about the clothes you were both supposed to be stripping off.

Gavin's tongue licked tentatively at the already forming bruises that littered your neck. He wasn't usually the type to give hickeys, but for some reason you made him increasingly possessive. And he wanted the world to know.

Police lights illuminated the inside of Gavin's car, and a single _whoop _of the police siren announced the presence of cops. The both of you froze when a round of knocks sounded against the car. You both looked up at the back-passenger window, following the single light that came from a flashlight.

"Ah, shit." Gavin's head fell to your chest, and he sighed.

The next set of knocks was followed with: "Detroit PD. Roll down your window."

Gavin leaned forward around the driver's seat and reached for the door to unlock the windows. He returned, gave you his jacket to cover yourself with, and started rolling down the window at the back. You both squinted at the flashlight that blinded your vision.

The officer lowered his head to the window, turning off his light. Chris Miller's smug face greeted Gavin. "Good evening, detective," he said, before lowering his gaze and seeing you waving up at him from the seat. Miller's eyes went wide, his cheeks going red. "Y/N, are you _serious_? You called off your shift to fuck _Reed_ in a _parking lot_?"

Gavin took offense to that. "I'm sitting right here, Miller."

"Chris. Partner. _Buddy_. Fancy seeing you here." You smiled at your partner ruefully.

"I can't un-see this shit." Miller glared at you both, a frown set on his lips. "Fuck it. Just get outta here before I write you up for public indecency."

Gavin slowly rolled the window up as Miller walked back to his cruiser, muttering under his breath about "needing to bleach his brain."

When the window closed, you both stayed still, blinking at each other. He was the first to break the silence, letting out a rare laugh.


End file.
